


you are not my almost (you are my forever)

by geralehane



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clexa, F/F, Happy Ending, It's a fix-it fic that's canon-compliant, an infinite number of happy endings if you read between the lines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:19:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6165535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geralehane/pseuds/geralehane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"May we meet again?" She asks, and Clarke shakes her head.</p><p>“Not ‘may’. No more wistful wishes. I will meet you hundreds of times in all of the universes, and I will love you in every single one of them."</p><p>The last thing Lexa sees is Clarke's gentle smile as they fade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you are not my almost (you are my forever)

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't leave it like this, I just couldn't. This is my gift to you, to us, to this fandom that has to suffer yet again through unfair treatment of ourselves on TV. I just want to show you that there's still hope, and I want you to never forget Lexa and her relationship with Clarke. No matter how it ended, it was beautiful, and I firmly believe that their love will overcome time and death over and over again.  
> Stay strong. I'm always open for a conversation and for prompts, however cheesy you want the to be. 
> 
> The story starts when Clarke enters the City of Light.

When Lexa turns to face her after fending off her attackers, Clarke doesn’t break. When she stumbles into Lexa’s arms, she doesn’t melt, doesn’t shatter into a million pieces. She holds her tight and sure, and when she distances herself slightly to look at Heda’s face, there are no tear streams down her cheeks.  
   
When Clarke tells her the reason she’s here, stone determination on her face – to be rid of the City of Light forever, to finally set her people free of Alie’s clutches – Lexa nods. She doesn’t expect anything different from Wanheda – it is always her people who matter, and Lexa accepts that. She knows she will be with Clarke till the end, till she fades and the last thing she sees is Clarke’s eyes, big and impossibly blue.  
   
When Lexa retrieves the chip, the one that contains the essence of the City, Clarke smiles and nods. It’s so easy, Lexa thinks, to get rid of this place. It’s so easy it feels like a trap, and yet it doesn’t feel easy at all, because as soon as the chip is gone, the City will crumble.  
   
Lexa will fade, and Clarke will live.  
   
Clarke reaches for her hand, silently urging her to crush it beneath her heel, and that is when Lexa breaks. Because she has to let Clarke _know_. It’s not fair and it’s not wise and it won’t help Clarke heal, but she finds she’s not strong enough to let Clarke go this time without telling her everything. She’s not afraid of death that seems permanent this time, and she wants Clarke to move on and live her life to the fullest, but she’s selfish enough to admit that she doesn’t want Clarke to _forget_.  
   
She pauses, and her hand clutches the chip that holds the illusion of City of Light. Just one more second.  
   
“I love you,” she breathes, and her hold on Clarke’s hand tightens. Clarke squeezes right back.  
   
“I know. And I love you, too.” And Clarke’s eyes glisten for the first time since Lexa appeared in front of her, and all the pain and heartbreak and longing shine through. Lexa is startled at the realization that Clarke has been trying very hard not to break, too. “And I would’ve dragged you out of here kicking and screaming so I could hold you again in the real world, but… I kinda don’t have a body to hold you with.” Her words are clumsy and her voice is shaking, and Lexa _knows_.  
   
“You’re not here because you took the pill,” she says. “You died.”  
   
It crashes down on her, but Clarke is smiling as she nods. It’s the only thing that stops Lexa from falling to her knees.  
   
Clarke is dead, and she’ll fade with her when the chip is gone. She’s not sure she can let that happen.  
   
But _em hodnes_ is looking at her with eyes full of love and wonder and peace, and she feels her fingers relax as the chip slips through. She’s only vaguely aware of the faint crackle it makes under her heel. All she can see, all she can fell is her Wanheda, her hair blonde and soft and her face unmarred and clean.  
   
"May we meet again?" She asks, and Clarke shakes her head.  
   
“Not ‘ _may_ ’. No more wistful wishes. I _will_ meet you hundreds of times in all of the universes, and I will love you in _every_ single one of them."  
   
The last thing Lexa sees is Clarke's gentle smile as they fade.  
   
There is no pain. Only Clarke's warm, calloused hand in hers.

* * *

It's 8:05, and she is terribly late.  
   
Her brunette curls, usually gathered in an intricate braid, are flowing wildly behind her as she runs past dormitory buildings and green lawns, struggling to get her other arm through a backpack strap. Finally, she gives up altogether, simply gathering her bag in her arms. She’s almost reached her auditorium, anyway.  
   
The professor gives her a disapproving glance as she hurriedly walks in and dumps her backpack on the front row, and he tells something to the blonde girl standing beside him as he gestures at the newcomer. The girl nods and quickly walks over to her, giving her a small, awkward smile. The rest of the class is finding their seats, shuffling and talking among themselves.  
   
That’s right, she remembers. Today is the day they are supposed to choose a partner for their final project. She doesn’t really understand how would a project work in Political Theory – she would’ve been better off working alone, anyway. But she recognizes that you can never be alone in politics – you’re always a part of the team. It’s best they learn to work with people now, she thinks, nodding to herself.  
   
The blonde girl finally reaches her – she guesses because she was late, she’s not allowed the luxury of choosing her own partner, and the professor assigned her one – and her eyes widen in recognition.  
   
“You’re the one who spilled coffee on me!” The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. The blonde frowns slightly, confused, before her eyes grow wide, too.  
   
“You're the one that bumped into me!”  
   
Well, she did, actually. It wasn’t really the girl’s fault.  
   
“Yeah, I kind of did. I was running late. Again.” She doesn’t know what to do with her hands, so she puts them behind her, assuming a formal stand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even stop to check if you were alright. Was coffee spilled on you, too?”  
   
The girl shakes her head no, and her frown dissipates. There’s a twinkle in her blue eyes.  
   
“You don't look like the kind of person who's late.”  
   
“I'm not, usually.” She isn’t. She has been late a total of two times, and both of these times, she ran into this girl.  
   
“Oh. Cool. I'm late a lot. Which is why I'm kinda sorry I got assigned as your partner. I, uh, I suck at this, I took this course as an elective, and only because my mom made me. Wow, I'm rambling a lot.” The blonde winces apologetically, but she finds she doesn’t mind.  
   
“It's okay.” She thinks it’s cute, and she blushes slightly at the thought.  
   
“Um, you’re Lexa Woods, right?”  
   
“How do you know my name?" Lexa is immediately suspicious before she realizes the professor probably told the girl who she was. She mentally rolls her eyes. "Oh, right. Never mind."  
   
"Yeah." The girl chuckles. "And also, I've seen you in my other classes. I took IPE last semester, and you were there. You kick ass at politics, by the way."  
   
"Oh. I'm sorry, I don't remember you." Lexa frowns apologetically. "What's your name?"

"I still didn't give you my name, right." The girl slaps her forehead and shakes her head in self-depreciating amusement. "I'm Clarke. Clarke Griffin."

Lexa takes Clarke's hand in hers to shake, and it's warm and slightly calloused. Something flickers in her eyes, big and blue, but Lexa can’t place her finger on it, and then it’s gone.  
   
Clarke smiles.

 

 

//

 

 

 _em hodnes_ \- her love


End file.
